


If We're Still Here

by Onehelluvapilot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Poe Dameron/Finn, Nightmares, Poe Dameron Hurts So Prettily, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, if you look for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 22:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: Everyone in the Resistance is at least a little damaged. Finn didn't know.





	If We're Still Here

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [even if we can't find heaven (I'll walk through hell with you)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864833) by [lucycantdance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucycantdance/pseuds/lucycantdance). 



> This is my first posted work. It was inspired by "even if we can't find heaven (I'll walk through hell with you)" by luceskywalker and the stronger, more independent Poe portrayed in it than in most nightmare fics. Though obviously little help from Finn can never hurt. Hope you guys like it!

Finn was woken by Poe awkwardly scrambling over him to get out of the bed. The room was dark; it was hours before their alarm was set to go off, and those who were frequently called out of bed at all hours learned to sleep in when they had the chance.

“Poe? What’s going on?” He asked, voice still thick with sleep.

The pilot swore softly under his breath as he pulled on some pants off the floor. “Sorry, I was trying not to wake you.” Finn reached over to turn on the light, as it became clear that Poe wasn’t going to, perfectly capable of navigating their room without it. The ex-stormtrooper was just in time to see the older man slip something into the pocket of his sweatpants from a drawer, but not fast enough to have caught what it was.

“Are you being called out?” The holo wasn’t displaying any alarms or messages about a mission. Poe pulled on his boots, ignoring their laces, not even glancing back at his roommate.

“No, just need some fresh air. Go back to sleep.” The door swished open and closed again before Finn could protest. Briefly he wondered whether he should listen to the pilot’s words and stay here or to his unspoken agitation and go after him. He made up his mind at the sight of the jacket on the floor. It may not be his anymore, but if anything, Poe took better care of it now whenever he could. When Finn had woken up, it had been sitting on the chair next to him, stitched carefully back together, though the pilot had been out on a mission and hadn't been able to be there himself. Something had to be wrong if he would leave it where it might be stepped on. Finn brought it with him when he went after his friend.

He found the commander leaning against an exterior wall of the housing block, a little glowing dot illuminating his face and the cloud of haze that pushed out between his lips with every exhale. He looked cold in just a thin t-shirt.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Finn remarked, coming to stand a few feet away.

“It isn’t a habit,” Poe replied, expertly flipping the cylinder end over end between his fingers. “It just helps me calm down after nightmares.” He didn't have to say what of. FN-2187 had heard the screams on the Finalizer, before. Finn stepped forward, careful to make his intentions clear before he moved. Poe didn't flinch away from the hand that came to rest on his chest. Now they could both feel how hard his heart was still hammering.

War broke people, Finn knew, but an army obviously couldn’t run full of broken soldiers. Since the Resistance didn’t decommission people like the First Order did, he assumed they had to get fixed. But it seemed like everyone was missing bits. Lost limbs, lost loved ones, or lost love in general. He admitted as much to Poe.

“People take time to fix,” the broken pilot explained. “Even if you can put the pieces back together, there isn’t enough time between battles to let the glue dry. There’s just enough time for quick patch-jobs and coping mechanisms. A helluva lot of tape. When this is all over and if we’re still here, then maybe we can try to heal. In the meantime, we stitch ourselves back together and hope the seams are strong enough to hold.”

“You seem to do a lot of hoping here in the Resistance.”

“Yeah, I suppose we do,” Poe agreed, sounding almost amused, a smile tugging up the edges of his lips.

“Why don’t you come back to bed?” Finn suggested. “Save your lungs and let me help instead.”

“You do help,” Poe assured him. This was the first time he had woken up like this in weeks, which he attributed solely to Finn’s presence. The ex-stormtrooper helped a lot, which is why the damaged pilot dropped the deathstick in a puddle and let himself be led back to their room and under the covers.


End file.
